Leap of Faith
by theshukri
Summary: "He could barely make out the silhouette of the buildings close by, and could barely make out that they were too far for him to jump without a running help." On the run from guards, Ezio gets a help from a certain eagle. GEN. No slash.


**Title:** Leap of Faith

**Summary:** "He could barely make out the silhouette of the buildings close by, and could barely make out that they were too far for him to jump without a running help." On the run from guards, Ezio gets a help from a certain eagle.

**Word Count: **1054

**Note: **Basically, Ezio is a young buck and gets help from Altair. Maybe a one shot of the arab teaching the italian a few things if people want it? Dunno.

* * *

><p><strong>LEAP OF FAITH<strong>

Feet thumping on the ground, he was breaking the very essence of being an assassin by making noise, by his footsteps slapping loudly against the rooftop, by landing heavily after jumping on another building, by cursing colourfully in his mother tongue as he heard the shouts and yells coming from behind him.

The sky was dark, buildings set alight with candles as people prepared themselves for sleep, but Ezio was busy being chased by a small army of guards; stumbling in the darkness, unable to see, constantly panicking one false step would lead to a plunge downwards to his death.

The twenty year old was still a Novice, was still an Amateur, was still _new_, and his first mission, his first target, while now successfully dead, had left him with messing up in his escape and now _still _trying to finish it. He stumbled on further, trying to put as much space as possible between him and his pursuers, leaping from one building to the other, not taking note of what direction he was going, only intent on the people following his tail. Somehow it completely bypassed his normally attentive observational skills that the building's were steadily climbing in height, that he was steadily climbing with every leap, sometimes only grabbing on by the bare fingertips and heaving himself up – but it was probably a good thing anyway, for the numbers behind him lessened slightly, some unwilling to jump the daunting heights that were normal for him, others more trained and capable.

The usually beautiful scenery he'd been admiring only this morning was shrouded in darkness, but Ezio could make out the high point of the main church, the long tower with the cross situated on top, and somehow, he found himself angling towards it, perhaps subconsciously seeking help from the higher ups, or maybe subconsciously already coming up with a plan that would only surface itself once he reached there – he didn't know, he was completely and utterly winging it, just hoping he'd be able to get out unscathed without revealing anything but a barely there figure nobody could guess was an assassin.

He reached the tower in record time anyway, dimly wondering whether his brother was somewhere rolling in his grave at Ezio's roof hopping prowess. But then a startling problem quickly showed itself, and Ezio cursed, cursed so hard and long half the stuff that fouled his mouth had been made up on the spot. From his perch on the tower, on a small plank he didn't really understand the use of, he could barely make out the silhouette of the buildings close by, and could barely make out that they were too far for him to jump without a running help. The roof he just came from was a no-no, for he could already here the yells and shouts of his pursuers gaining on him, caging him in, driving him nuts to sweat buckets as panic seized his heart. There was nowhere for him to go, and he didn't want this to be the end, didn't want to let down his whole family, his love, everything he's strived for this last year – but there was nowhere for him to go.

_Jump._

What? Was he insane? What part of there being _nowhere to go _did his brain not understand? If he jumped, it would be nothing short of suicide, and even worse, it'd leave behind the evidence of his body, his clothes, his _identity – _better to discard his clothing, burn it all, and _then_ jump, and leave only the name of Ezio, who committed suicide most likely out of depression for his family and love, behind, leave only himself and family name to shame. The noises behind grew louder, he could make out the words now, the _"Get him!" _and _"This way!" _coming from men with families, men with wives, possibly children, or even young adults with a girl that had caught their eye the other day – men Ezio would kill easily with a hidden blade or two, for the greater good he'd say. The darkness around him grew more oppressive, tried choking him, gripped his heart as he stared below from his perch on the plank, hearing the call of an eagle that was probably searching for prey.

_Jump._

A whisper, something soft that wrapped around his brain and faded like smoke, sounding like a voice of deep intonation, that one word evoking incredulity in Ezio's chest, logic telling him it was absurd.

_Jump._

Again, the soft word, not a command, but not a suggestion, something that merely told him, gave him a clear action, and wouldn't be offended if he refused. One moment he blinked, caught the glimpse of a man wearing the brotherhood's uniform, a bright white variation, looking up at him from somewhere down below, and in another blink the vision was gone.

An eagle, probably the same considering Ezio was just realising this area of the country was not known for it's birds, gave another cry, two following in quick succession, all three a measurements of _something_ that Ezio couldn't fathom.

"_He's there! Get him before he jumps!"_

'Jumps.' As if they knew he would leap off the plank, up here on the church's highest tower, and fall to his death. He could see them now, if he looked back, the figures coming closer, raising their bow and arrows, putting him in their sight. He inched forward on the plank, eyes riveted by the black nothingness of down below, wondering why on earth he was even _thinking _of, as said before, falling to his death. It was absolutely absurd, something obviously from an insane mind (it didn't help he was having hallucinations of men he'd never met before), and maybe, just maybe, he really should strip down, get rid of his clothes and at least save one aspect of his family, save them from shaming the brotherhood, even if he could not save them from shaming the family name. He inched closer again, sandalled toes at the limit, the wooden plank staying strong and loyal under his weight. An eagle called, and Ezio truly believed himself to have gone of the deep end to _know _it was the same bird, calling to him, persuading him just as the man with the impossibly white hood had done in one blink.

_Have faith. Jump._

And so Ezio did.


End file.
